


All the World is Birthday Cake, So Take a Piece

by popfly



Category: Teen Wolf (TV) RPF
Genre: Birthday, Birthday Sex, Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-27
Updated: 2012-08-27
Packaged: 2017-11-13 01:06:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/497692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/popfly/pseuds/popfly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dylan has the best birthday ever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All the World is Birthday Cake, So Take a Piece

**Author's Note:**

> Because Dylan's cast mates were out without him last night (or at least he didn't show up in any tweets/pictures) and Tyler didn't tweet at all yesterday I am just assuming that he flew to Atlanta to visit Dylan for a secret birthday celebration. I bet as soon as I post this someone will tweet something proving me wrong, but whatever, a girl can dream. This assumes an established relationship, and is unbeta'd, so I apologize for any errors. Title is a George Harrison quote. I Googled it.

Dylan is buzzed on cake and laughter and just a little rum (Harvey kept sneaking shots of it into Dylan’s Coke cans) and softball and sunlight. It’s only five o’clock and already his twenty-first birthday has been his best birthday ever. His cast mates (it was still weird to use that phrase on people that weren’t Teen Wolf people) had made him a cake and a tee shirt (though that was more a redesign than anything else considering they just stuck electrical tape to the shirt he was already wearing) and actually attempted playing softball even though most of them were terrible at it.

He could barely believe there was more birthday left.

He’s stretched out on the bleachers, eyes closed against the sun, humming happily to himself while everyone chatters around him, when his phone vibrates in his pocket. He bolts upright and fumbles for it, swinging his legs down to the ground and then jogging away, out of earshot of everyone else.

As a result he’s slightly breathless, from more than excitement, when he swipes his finger across the screen to answer the call. “Hoechlin, you’re late.”

There’s a low chuckle from the other end and all of Dylan’s nerve endings tingle. “Sorry, babe, we sat on the tarmac forever. How’s the game?”

“Over. I hit a home run. They made me a cake. Hard to believe it’s my twenty first birthday and not my twelfth, hey?” He rolls his eyes at himself, switching his phone from hand to hand and wiping a sweaty palm on his shorts.

“I’m glad you’re having fun, but yeah, my plans for the evening are slightly more adult.”

Dylan’s eyes skip around the park, and even though he knows he’s yards away from anyone and they can’t hear him he still lowers his voice. “Are you really trying to talk dirty to me while you’re in the airport?”

“No. I’m trying to talk dirty to you while I’m outside the airport. Don’t worry, everyone’s way too preoccupied hating Hartsfield-Jackson International Airport to even notice me.”

Dylan scoffs. Tyler has no idea how very noticeable he is, even in his standard traveling gear of basketball shorts and a baseball hat. Those shoulders are hard not to notice. Dylan can’t wait to see him. “Get a taxi you perv, I’ll say my goodbyes and see you there.”

There’s a beat of silence on the other end of the phone, then, “I can’t wait.”

Dylan can’t hold back what he’s sure is a totally stupid smile. “Me neither.”

*****

When Tyler opens the hotel room door Dylan feels another stupid smile spread across his face. Tyler grins back, and Dylan actually flings himself into the room.

“Best idea ever,” Dylan says, his words muffled by Tyler’s neck, grabbing two fistfuls of Tyler’s tee shirt.

“Thanks, I’m pretty proud of it.” Dylan can feel Tyler’s smirk against his cheek and pulls back to kiss it off his face, kicking the door shut behind him.

Dylan knows Tyler has plans, Tyler always has plans. Dylan always has plans as well, but his are basically get Tyler out of his clothes as soon as he possibly can, and it’s his birthday so he figures Tyler’s plans can wait. He skims his hands over the warm cotton of Tyler’s shirt, down the broad expanse of his back and then up again, dragging the hem along.

Tyler goes along with it, lifting his arms and letting Dylan pull the shirt all the way off. “So impatient,” he mutters, but he moves right back in and takes Dylan’s mouth, bracketing Dylan’s face with his hands and controlling the kiss. Dylan lets him take over and focuses on the drawstrings of Tyler’s shorts, bitten short nails plucking at the bow.

“Why do I always end up naked first?” Tyler asks, mumbling against Dylan’s jaw. Dylan can feel stubble burn on his chin and knows he’s going to be red from mouth to chest (and hopefully lower if he gets a say) and is glad they gave him a late call the next day.

Dylan shoves at the waistline of Tyler’s shorts. “You don’t always. At least I’m not violent when I strip you.” Tyler had ruined a few of Dylan’s plaid button-downs, but they were usually ones he stole from costume so he didn’t mind. Not that he would complain about it either way because it had been really hot. “And anyway, it’s my birthday. I’m just unwrapping my present.”

Tyler’s eyes go from half-lidded with want to rolling so hard Dylan’s afraid he’s going to strain something, but he does finish taking his shorts off so Dylan considers it a win.

“Don’t roll your eyes, you love my bad puns.”

“I’d love them more if you lost the shorts.”

Dylan waggles his eyebrows and pops the button, wiggling his hips and letting the shorts fall to the floor. He’s trying to get a grin out of Tyler, but Tyler’s too busy licking his lips like he’s going to eat him, and Dylan thinks that’s a lot better.

When they’re both fully naked Tyler presses them together knee to chest and nudges Dylan towards the bed. “I do have a present for you,” Tyler says, nosing under his jaw.

Dylan tips backwards onto the mattress and Tyler follows, sliding his palms up Dylan’s ribcage. “You weren’t supposed to get me anything, you flying out here was my present.”

Tyler drags his tongue over Dylan’s collarbone, then across his chest. He sucks a kiss just above Dylan’s navel and then looks up, quirking his eyebrows.

“Are you making a blowjob joke right now? You are, aren’t you? Dude, why do you even try, humor-as-foreplay is my gig.” Dylan’s taunt ends on a gasp as Tyler circles his fingers around Dylan’s cock and licks a stripe up the underside. “Fuck,” Dylan curses with feeling as Tyler closes his lips around the head and hollows his cheeks.

Tyler has always been spectacular at giving head. Dylan still cannot figure out how someone can be that attractive, kind, talented, and good in bed. Dylan would hate him if he wasn’t so completely in love with him.

He reaches down to rub his fingers over Tyler’s hair, feeling overwhelmed with affection and the feeling of Tyler’s mouth around him. It really is the best birthday ever.

*****

They order a disgusting amount of room service and a bottle of champagne, which Dylan teases Tyler mercilessly over, but Tyler insists. Tyler tacks on a giant piece of chocolate cake because even though Dylan already had cake Tyler knows he won’t say no to chocolate.

They wrap up in the hotel bathrobes and sit cross legged on the bed, knees touching, passing the bottle back and forth, and Dylan lets Tyler feed him bites of his steak because Tyler is a weirdo and thinks it’s romantic. Dylan wipes a finger full of frosting on Tyler’s cheek and then leans over to lick it right off because Tyler looks so affronted, and Dylan almost falls off the bed laughing.

Tyler asks if Dylan wants to go out, since he legally can now, and they can always find some hole in the wall where no one will know them, but Dylan shakes his head. “Let’s stay in. Order a movie, maybe get another bottle of champagne.” Dylan is feeling a little fizzy, and he’s comfortable in his robe, and he never wants Tyler to get dressed again, ever.

“Are you sure?”

Dylan clears the bed of trays and climbs back onto the mattress, straddles Tyler’s hips. “I am 100% sure. But first, can you take off this robe?”

“Greedy,” Tyler says, but he’s already untying the sash.

“Shut it,” Dylan says, going in for a kiss. “It’s my birthday.”


End file.
